


I'm Dying To See How This One Ends

by TheShadowsAreNotWatching



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Coffee Shops, F/M, Not Fluff, coffee shop horror, vaguely gothic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 23:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11345235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShadowsAreNotWatching/pseuds/TheShadowsAreNotWatching
Summary: I mean, I guess you could call this a coffee shop au.(You meet the most interesting customers as a barista. Not just because that strange man is so charming and handsome)





	I'm Dying To See How This One Ends

   He came in with the moonlight. The bells gave a little chime when he walked in, all pale hair and pale skin. Like most of her customers at one in the morning, he seemed to move in a daze. Like most of her customers, he asked for whatever had the most caffeine in it. Vex supposed he could be a college student albeit a wan one. The gold buttons on his coat were a bit unusual for the local uni, but hey, he could come from money.

              “Name?” Vex asked

              “Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III” he answered back robotically, an answer clearly said enough to be rote.

              When she called for “Percy” he gave a slight smile. Not much, but enough to move the bags under his eyes, make him look a little more alive. He paid with a twenty and left all the change in the tip jar and left into the darkness from whence he came.

              _Strange man_ she thought and then continued in with her shift.

 

             

              He came back, not the next day, but the day after. He looked approximately the same amount of dead. At least the buttons on his coat were plastic this time.

              When she called out for _Percy,_ the same smile as before graced his features.

              “You remembered.”

              “You’re somewhat distinctive, dear”

              “Is it the white hair?”

               “Hard to forget your name when you gave me _four._ Besides, you actually tipped your barista. My manager tells me that the key to repeat customers is highlighting our local, personal charm.”

              “Well, Vex, this is the only non-chain for miles. I am, depressingly, a hopeless hipster.”

              “Now _that’s_ what the white hair gave away”

              He laughed, and suddenly Vex was struck how handsome he was. Sharp features, kind face. He tipped generously and waved half of a wave before walking off. She smiled a little bit to herself.

 

 

              He came in, here and there. She discovered he was good fun, easy enough to tease and fluster with a wink and game enough to play along. But the next important time was when he entered as her savior. When Vex first took the night shift, she thought the late hour would protect her from creeps. The blonde douche trying to chat her up clearly did not get that message. He was so close—she could see the individual hairs on his tacky goatee and the individual rhinestones on his tacky earing.

              She would’ve been grateful to ever opened the door, sounded the bells, and provided her the escape route. But she’d admit (to herself, certainly not aloud) that she might’ve been a bit extra grateful that Percy was coming to her rescue.  He glanced over both at the blonde douche in salmon shorts and her pained smile. Quick eyes immediately comprehended the situation.

              “Vex, how _are_ you?” he said, voice filled with more emotion than she had previously heard from him.

              “Good, good. Yourself?” As she faced Percy, she made sure to show blonde douche her back.

              “Oh, same ol’ same ol’. Victor—my boss at the garage, you know—works me ragged.”

              “Don’t pretend you aren’t doing it to yourself darling, I know your workaholic ways” Well, Vex knew that he drank his coffee late at night with too much caffeine. “I always forget you work at a garage. You can forgive me, all the…” she gestured

              “genteel manners?” he offered up

              “...fancy clothing”

              “I have layers.”

              “Obviously, you’re wearing a peacoat in May.”

              He smirked a bit at her lame joke, but her feelings of pride were cut short by the realization that blonde douche was still there, tapping his foot and pointedly coughing.

              “So how are—how are…” You’d think it’d be easier to fake a relationship with a customer she’d serve coffee to three whole times.

              “My siblings? They’re good. Cass is still in high school and hates it, but judging from the sounds coming from her room, she’s discovered emo music which might make it more bareable.”

              “I was more punk than emo, but I understand the feeling. Boys and girls in skinny jeans shouting into mics is intrinsic to surviving being a teenager. I’m guessing you were… goth?”

              “The hair gives it away again, doesn’t it? I may or may not have had a certain proclivity for black in high school.”

              “Didn’t we all?”

              “Anyone worth knowing, surely. I forget, do you have any siblings?”

              “No, only child.”

              “I can’t imagine. Was it lonely?”

              “Not really, I had a big dog and a lovely mother.”

              “Well, I’m… glad that he’s gone.”

              Vex turned her head and sure enough, blonde douche wasn’t there anymore.

              “You’re a hero, honestly”

              “Hardly. My god, that man had no taste.”

              “I’m not sure what part of his style made me want to punch him in the face the most, but the overall package was atrocious.”

              “May I suggest the bedazzled crocs as an item for your consideration?”

              “And here I thought my shop would only have _one_ over privelleged asshole.”

              Percy put his hand over his heart, mock offended “How dare you, I’m at least an overprivelleged asshole with good taste.”

              “I didn’t mean to impugn your honor, dear. I promise you’re my favorite overprivileged asshole. You’re not even an asshole, really. You’re my knight in shining armor”

              Percy mock shuddered and placed his order. When Vex handed over his drink, they’re hands briefly touched and there were a few seconds when they were staring at each other. Vex had never been one for poetry, but she’d wish she paid more attention so she could make a metaphor or a similie or _something_ to describe him. The air around him felt… felt like something; like magic or electricity or the feeling of the first brisk, crisp day in autumn. Something exciting and interesting. He reminded her of a fairy tale. Maybe not a prince or knight, but some fey thing, elegant and glamourous, fascinating and mysterious.

              Then all of the sudden like a bubble being popped, the moment was over. He got out his wallet to pay, although she brushed him off.

              “Coffee on the house for customers who save me from tacky, chatty men.” She gave him a wink and in return he gifted her with a slight blush dusting his cheek bones. Instead of putting his money back, he put the whole twenty in the tip jar.

              During the rest of her shift she absent mindedly scratched at her wrist and smiled to herself. _What a wonderfully strange man_

 

 

              If Percy wasn’t a regular before, he was now, appearing at the shop almost every night. He came at weird times, at witching hours and those moments where it takes twenty minutes for twenty seconds pass. Fitting for the weird times, he asked her weird questions while she prepared his drinks. Questions like: if you could be a mythical creature, what would it be? What’s your favorite super power? What’s your plan of defense in a zombie apocalypse?

              (Her answers: a mermaid, flying, get a bow and look _really_ cool)

She shot back: Can you speak any other languages? Do you have any scars with interesting stories? Why is your hair white?

              (His answers: Latin, silence and a smile, “I didn’t choose the goth life, the goth life chose me.”)

              She thinks about it while  cleaning the counter, unable to sing along to the soundtrack of some parody cover artist or something. Normally Vex has a love/hate relationship with this part of the flirtation. She’s not so much as a fan of the chase as she is the hunt, the final strike. But there’s something nice about her current relationship with Percy. She always looks forward to seeing him. He’s a charming asshole and he knows it and he seems smug and apologetic about both parts.

              But she’s still excited when he asks her out.

              “If I’m overstepping my bounds and you’re just being nice to me because its your job, feel free to tell me to fuck off…”

              “…I have never in my life been silent about telling someone to fuck off, but go on.” There’s no one in the store, but them, Vex doesn’t have anything much to do other than twist at her tight bracelet.

              “Would you like to spend some time with me outside of your job? Grab dinner or drinks or see a movie—really anything other than getting coffee together?”

              “Percivial Fredrickstein I forget the rest, are you asking me on a date?”

              “Yes, if you don’t mind”

              “Far from mind, dear, I’d love to go on a with date you. Anything more specific you have in allmind?”

              “Well, there is an exhibit on at the Emon Museum of Natural History that looks quite good, it’s on the Julian-Claudian emperors.”

              “Yes, I definitely know who those people are”

              “First Roman imperial dynasty, you know, Augustus, Tiberius, Cal—Vex, are you alirght?”

              Vex felt as if someone had punched the air out of her. She grabbed one edge of the counter space and her other hand flew up to her nose. She tilted her head up once she realized the sheer amount of blood flowing out of her sudden nose bleed.

              Percival, the gentleman, steadies her, leads her to a table, and sets her down. He pulls out a Tyrian colored handkerchief and immediately hand it over to her.

              “I’m sorry darling, I’m not sure what happened to me. Some sort of freak spell, I guess. Not exactly my most graceful of moments”

              “It’d take a lot more than a bloody nose to make you any less lovely. We can raincheck the planning”

              “But not the date. I want that date, the bloody nose changes nothing”

              “We will actually plan and go on a date, I promise. Scouts honor”

              “Mmm. Meaningful.” There was no way either of them were in the scouts. Just then a customer entered. She supposed she should do more at her job than flirt with Percy.

              “See you later?”

              “Of course, darling.”

 

 

              Vex had heard of star-crossed lovers of course, but work schedule cross lovers were an entirely new invention. They scheduled a date, but it was like three weeks out. It was unbearable. Percy listened to her gripe about it, patiently. Percy, the dear, made sure to get coffee once a night on a her shift. The first two nights she had other customers who couldn’t read the mood, but tonight it was just the two of them. There was no one around so Vex made the executive decision to sit down and have a drink of her own. Tonight’s question of choice: worst customer.

              Percy regaled her with the story of some sort of gang that called themselves the Conclave who all demanded matching paint jobs.

              “—And one of them kept poison in their car and then tried to manipulate me into giving her a discount?”

              “…well did you?”

              “She had poison in her car! I said I would and then just charged her the full amount. She was sick with something, she might’ve been too out of it too notice.”

              “Daring. I would’ve just given her the discount”

              “I refuse to negotiate with terrorists. You? Your worst customer?”

              “Well, unfortunately blonde douche keeps coming back.”

              “The man who I’m fully confident has a bedazzled rose gold phone? Has he been bothering you?”

              “Yes, him. He’s not really harmful just rather odd. Worst flirter I’ve ever seen. He keeps telling me that I need to leave or that this isn’t right.”

              “He sounds delusional. The moment he does something… malicious, call me, okay?”

              “Trust me I know crazy and he’s not that kind of crazy. I had this one customer, now she was the worst. Started yelling at me when I asked if she wanted a shot of protein. Accused me of putting chemicals in her drink to turn frogs gay or give her autism or something. When I’m very quiet, I can still hear her shouting ‘ORGANIC!’ in my ear.”

              “She sounds… special.”

              “Yeah, it was like she was some sort of anti-vaxxer”

              “Well considering the state of your flowers—are you okay? Your nose is bleeding again.”

              “Shit, fuck.” She grabbed the (other? How many of these does he have?) handkerchief out of Percy’s outstretched hand and started blotting at her nose. “I don’t know why I keep having these, they never used to happen”

              “I’m a portent of bad luck.”

              “Nah, you just make me swoon.” She tried to do a smirk and a flirty wink, but considering she was leaning her head back clutching a handkerchief to her nose she doubted it turned out as sexy as normal. She still got a smile out of Percy though, so battle won.

              “I got you some cream for your wrist. I noticed you keep itching at it. I certainly didn’t mean to cause more health problems for you.”

              She waved away the latter part of his statement. “Don’t worry about it, dear. Any nosebleeds that may or may not occur in your presence are random. The gift is very sweet and much needed. What were we talking about before? Something about the flowers?”

              “Oh, I was just making a joke about some hippie being perturbed by your dead flowers over there.”

              She turned around and sure enough the vase of flowers her manager had just put out a few hours ago ‘to liven up the atmosphere’ were wilted and withering.

              “Strange, those are new.”

              “Huh. You guys are making a lot of changes around here, the music’s new.”

              “You mean the album? It’s actually been playing for awhile.”

              They both took a moment to listen to it:

              _Baby, I got Scanlan_

_Run away fast as you can_

              Vex laughed as Percy wrinkled up his nose in disgust. “I guess we have been making changes around here. But I’m constant”

              “That the important thing. ‘s why I keep coming back.” He may have said that, but Vex gave a pointed look at his coffee and its eight shots of espresso. “…that’s just a bonus”

              He stood up and prepared to go. Vex sighed and started standing and tying up her apron.

              “I really do hate that music though. It’s so distracting”

              “I guess I’ll just have to be more distracting” She winked, much more sexy without the bloody nose.

              “And how would you do that?”

              They moved closer together, in sync, so it was impossible to tell who started kissing who. They were in unison and when they kissed, Vex felt a part of something greater than herself.

              It was a damn good kiss.

              When he (finally, much later than he meant to) left, Vex turned around and sighed. It turns out minimum wage service jobs _could_ bring good things into your life.

              His taste in medicinal cream was shit though. After she applied his gift to her wrist, she could’ve sworn it burned worse. She scratched at peeling skin for the rest of the night.

 

 

              So she waited and she wished for the day of the date to come, trading kisses with Percival in the meanwhile. She felt like Pavlov’s dog, brightening up whenever she heard the door creak open.

              Which was just setting herself up for disappointment because _blonde douche_ kept coming in. He kept saying cryptic bullshit and making weird hand signals and muttering weird bullshit under his breath. The night before her and Percy’s date (!!!) he came in and wouldn’t leave, apparently prepared to make this his last stand.

              “—Vex please, please, we have to go, before he comes back here, _this isn’t real_ ”

              “I don’t know what you’re talking about, please leave.”

              “I can show you” he held out his hand like she was crazy enough to leave the counter and be closer to him

              “Sir, I really think you should go”

              “Please, I don’t have much time”

              “If you don’t have much time, is it really in your best interest to be so cryptic?”

              “The… thing has defenses. Every time I try to tell you, it just make it like I never said in the first place”

              “That’s a very likely story” That was a completely idiotic story.

At this point, he started mouthing aloud nothing, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

              “Seriously, please leave” she pleaded with him

              “Wait, wait. Uh—you’re feeling groggy. You picked up a trinket. Head on a pike. Vaccination. Shit, fuck. There’s no puns with ------ or -------” The blonde seemed desperate. Well, more desperate than usual.

              A small trickle of blood started appearing. Vex could feel her ears ringing. “What—what did you do?”

              “I’m trying to remind you! Of your friends, of --- ------!”

              She followed along with his syllables, reading his lips as easily as if he was speaking. Why did it feel like she could read lips? “Vox Machina? What the hell is that?”

              Elated at the first part, down trodden on the second, blonde douche continued: “Look at your wrist, Vex.”

              Some spiteful part wanted to refuse his request, but the mere mention of her wrist caused it to itch unbearably. When she went to scratch, she felt something slick and wet. When she looked down, she saw what she could swear were tendons.

              “How the fuck…?” She started.

              “You know you’re not supposed to be here. When’s the last time you’ve been home? When’s the last time you’ve left his coffee shop?

              “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

              “Please. Come with me. I’ll stand far away from you. Just look out the window.”

              She wasn’t going to do it. But the same part of her that rescued hurt birds and too skinny cats stirred with pity at his beseeching face. Plus, she was starting to want answers too. “Stay. Over there.” As she walked to the doorway, she kept an eye on blonde douche to make sure he didn’t stray from his corner, only taking her eyes off him for a second to open the doorway.

              She closed the door not two seconds after opening it.

              “How can there be nothing? It’s just, it’s just pitch black.”

              “It’s not real. None of this is real.”

              “…Percy?”

              “That” he says with disgust “is not Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III”

              “If this isn’t real, how do I get somewhere that is?”

              “We’re trying to pull you out. We just need you to accept that this isn’t real” He said this as if it was an easy ask, if it was as simple as a choice. She couldn’t choose to deny the solid wood underneath her feet or the smell of coffee in the corner. How could this not be real? She closed her eyes and opened them. Everything was still there.

              “I need a moment, okay? This is weird, I’ll admit that. But there’s some perfectly rational explanation for all of this. The world exists, I’m sure of it.”

              “Little elf girl, you don’t have a moment. You need—“

              “—No, you need to get away from Vex’ahlia” Percy’s voice was as cold as death. He put an arm around her sholders and took a step forward as to shield her.

              “Percy…” she said it as quiet as a whisper, but he immediately turned around to face her.

              “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear, if he hurt you—“

              “No, he just said some really weird things, some phrases that I think might’ve made my nose bleed. Percy. there’s something wrong with the outside.”

              “You’ve been having nose bleeds lately and he just happened to say names. The street lights are all off and there’s clouds blocking the moon. It’s a little dark, that’s all. There’s a reasonable explanation for all of this, scouts honor.” He held up a hand at her. She could see the oil stains around his fingers, the lines on his finger prints. She could see the miniute details, feel is breath on her cheek. 

              “My wrist…”

              “…what’s wrong with your wrist? It’s just a rash”

              She looked down. Her wrist was dotted with little red marks, but that was it.

              “He said this wasn’t real. He was so convincing.” Her words sounded weak and unsure even to her. Maybe this was nothing. There’s a logical explanation for everything.

              “I know this world is real, dear. I can prove it to you.” Percy was like a rock to hold onto, something to cling as you were drowning. Why did she have the feeling he’d sound like that in hell? It’s easy to be convinced of your own eixstance, it’s everyone else’s that’s the problem.

              “And how would you do that?”

              He leans into her kiss and he tasted like ash and asphodel. It’s a damn good kiss. But it’s not as sweet as usual. He feels desperate. Why would he be desperate?

              And all of the sudden she remembers something.

              “Percy, where’s Vax? Where’s my brother?”

              “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re scaring me, Vex, you told me you were an only child.”

              She didn’t have a right answer, but she refused to believe that kissing Percy would be a wrong move. This time he tucked cinereous fingers in her hair, brushing back a strand behind her round ear.

              The music blared louder:  _Hold me closer, shiny ranger_

              That was wrong. This was wrong. This isn’t her body. This isn’t her Percy.

              As if it could sense her confusion and distress, the thing she thought was Percy pleaded to her: “Please, Vex, don’t leave me. I love you.”

              “My heart belongs to someone else.”

              Tary runs towards her and she matches the motion. She expects the thing that was Percy to take the opportunity to take a strike at them, to manipulate this illusion and separate them. Instead, it just looks heartbroken.

              For a brief second, Vex wonders what that date would’ve been like.

              It probably would’ve been good.

              But Vex reaches Tary and thinks hard. About her brother and her Percy and all her friends. About Trinket and what it feels to fly.

              As soon as Tary touches her and says something, the world falls away.

              And then she’s back.

 

              She wakes up surrounded by love. Scanlan has a hoarse voice from continual singing and Keyleth looks positively haggard. They explain in short fragments what happened. An illusion that gives you what makes you happy. A spell that traps you in soft, mundane happiness and kills you. Everyone tried, but only Taryon could enter into her head. The others could just watch and try to help.

              She comforts Pike and jokes around with Grog and teases and pokes at all of them until they’re ready to leave the room.

              It’s just her and Percy. He seems shaken, a little bit scared. But he tells her he knew she’d come through.

              When he kisses her, it’s the same kiss that the other Percy gave her. It’s familiar, like pulling on an old favorite sweater, it feels like coming home. It's a damn good kiss.

 

              Her left wrist starts to itch. She doesn’t scratch it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I wrote so much about a straight coffee shop au. At least pronouns were easy this time around. I feel like there's a not insignificant number of coffee shop au's would be better if everything turned out to be some horrible illusion. 
> 
> anironicattempt.tumblr.com


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